Hic Tandem Felicis Conduntar Reliquae
by Sike
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have been left out of the divine struggle, living as grey zone immortals. This works fine until Lucifer walks out on Hell, and right up to England. Why did he leave? Will it be Hell on earth? CA and BL slash.
1. It's hell, dear

Disclaimer: I bow down to the almighty Neil and Terry. They own the Good Omens universe, not I.

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have been left out of the divine struggle, living as grey zone immortals. This works fine until Lucifer walks out on Hell, and right up to England. Why did he leave? Will it be Hell on earth? Mild C/A slash.

AN: Okay, I got an idea that I wanted to try.

I don't really know if this appeals to anyone, if I should keep going or what. Please read it and let me know what you think. Oh yeah… the title is Latin, it means "Here, at last, he is happy."

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**Hic Tandem Felicis Conduntur Reliquae**

**Chapter 1- It's hell, dear.**

They figured that sooner or later, they were getting a phone call from hell. Heaven, maybe, but hell was a certainty. They expected those calls to be full of anger, lenience, pity or… Perhaps on the furthest stretch: forgiveness.

They never expected panic.

It was three months after the aversion of apocalypse that they received a phone call filled with just that.

* * *

To understand just how surprised they were to be contacted in the first place, you have to understand what happened immediately after the almost-apocalypse.

Both sides were quite at a loss as far as what to do about Crowley and Aziraphale. In the end, perhaps ineffably, they were given the same punishment. Since they had both somehow managed to slip through all the loop holes of their divine laws (and because they did more harm than good to their respective causes) the angel and demon were both given rogue status. They were still immortals, but they served no side; which is to say they were grey zone entities.

Which is to say heaven and hell wanted them out of their hair.

When they were first given the news, it was a little awkward. Crowley was nervous about seeing Aziraphale because he was glad that his angel was grey. (And yes, by that time, Crowley always referred to him privately as his.)

Aziraphale was also nervous about seeing Crowley because he was ashamed. He was ashamed about how happy he was to be grey.

On the day that they both decided to tell each other the truth, they left their homes at the same time. Aziraphale only got a few blocks away from his bookshop when Crowley swung around the corner, no car, just demon speed and wings out so that he was nearly flying.

Well, what do you suppose they did?

Yes, exactly, just that.

The plants in Crowley's flat have long since died from neglect, as he no longer lives there.

And why not? In the grey zone, people live by choice… and it has long been common knowledge who Crowley and Aziraphale chose respectively.

Living as they wanted to live as long as they wanted to live (and the plan was eternity) they figured that sooner or later they would be contacted by their old employers. No one stays mad forever.

No one stays in the same place forever.

* * *

It was three months after the apocalypse and Crowley was sleeping to the music of typical English weather… which is to say: rain. I was sitting in the living room, gazing out of the blurred window. I was weighing the pros and cons of waking a former demon who was not a morning person, when the phone rang.

It really did ring, as a matter of fact. Sure it was a cordless, but I assumed that it would ring like a bell… so it did.

"Hello?" We had bought the phone for our own use, so I didn't know anyone who would call who wasn't a telemarketer.

"_Zzz_angel_zzz _don't hang _zzz _up zzzee phonezzz…" The voice was male harsh… hardly speech with all the buzzing choking it.

Even though the demon asked, I nearly did hang up.

"I have name, Beelzebub, and I don't see why I shouldn't." It was one of the harshest tones I ever used… but I was afraid. What did they want with Crowley?

"ZZZorry Azzzziraphale… pleazzzzzze, izzzz Crowley zzzzzere?" I felt my insides freeze up. Beelzebub's tone was panicky and he had used the words 'sorry' and 'please'… in a sentence. Something was happening.

"What's going on?" I asked.

The prince of hell hissed loudly in impatience. "I muzzzt zzzzpeak wizzz Crowleyzzzz. Itzzzzz an emergenzzzzy!"

"Alright, alright! You'll have to give him a moment… he's still asleep." I went over to look at Crowley, leaning on our bedroom doorframe.

"Zzzzevil zzz never zzzleepszzzz." The demon commented in a disgusted voice. I smiled to myself.

"Exactly."

* * *

It was so nice… just to lie there in bed and not have to move…

The pattering rain had started to get louder, forcing me to grudgingly regain consciousness.

I took in a slow breath. The lack of a warm pressure on my chest told me that my angel had already woken up. Not that that told me anything about the time. Aziraphale could get up at the crack of dawn if he wanted to. Madness…

Deciding I would get up (even if my only motivation was a good snog) I stretched out my arms in a wide arch, letting my wings free to do the same.

I opened my eyes to the sound of the door opening. Aziraphale was there, looking at me with a slow smile. He held the phone away from his ear, which sounded like it was broken: there was a great deal of shouting coming out of the receiver, but also buzzing as well.

"Morning, Aziraphale." I said, deliberately sinking back down onto the bed.

"The phone's for you, Crowley, time to get up." The shouting from the receiver seemed to lessen a bit.

"Aww," I groaned. I closed my eyes and turned away, deliberately letting kept my wings out so that they would pull the sheet away from my bare back. "Who is it?" I mumbled into the pillow.

"It's hell, dear." He said quietly, "They sound like they're in a right state."

I sat straight up, fear taking a hold on me. I got out of our bed, my wings disappearing once more. My too long pair of cargo pants whispered along the carpet as I crossed the room.

It was entirely possible that hell had called to either to try and get me back, or destroy me. I tried to smile nonchalantly and kissed my grey angel on the cheek before taking the phone.

"It's Crowley."

* * *

I watched him wince as Beelzebub started buzzing and shouting into Crowley's ear.

I went into the kitchen to make some tea, listening attentively to Crowley's conversation.

"Calm down… calm… oh bloody hell, shut up! Say it slowly so I can hear." Crowley paced into the living room, a frown drawing his face inward.

"What?" He stopped dead. Face blank in shock. "He's WHAT? ... you're sure? Well, where is he?" Beelzebub shouted so loudly, Crowley had to pull the phone away from his face. From where I stood, it looked like the receiver was heating up.

"Okay, damn, relax. You want me to what? Why should I? Yeah? Well I don't work for you anymore! Hmph. Will I? I'll keep an eye open, alright? Yeah, sure… don't hold your breath. Yeah, you too."

He turned off the phone and whipped it onto the sofa.

"Shit!"

I took his arm and brought Crowley over to the kitchen table to sit down. (You could have called it the only table, but it _was_ in the kitchen.)

"Here, love, have some tea." I pushed a cup into Crowley's hands. The grey demon sipped it sombrely.

The silence weighed on me. We'd had a good few months… but it seemed like that was over. I hadn't seen Crowley this upset since the apocalypse.

Even though I knew it bothered him, put my hands on top of his. "Will you tell me what he said?" I asked. To my surprise, Crowley actually interlaced his fingers with mine. He nodded

* * *

I can't exactly explain how hard it is to do this to someone you love. Right now, he's worried about me, about how I feel. When I tell him what's happened, it'll be like a blow to the face. I don't want to hurt him, but he needs to know.

"Beelzebub says everyone in hell is in a panic. They're all disorganised and they don't know what to do. He's gone, left without a trace. Beel asked me to look for him up here. I said I would, but I don't know… if he's feeling violent then I should get you out as far away as-"

"Crowley!" Aziraphale cut into my rambling. "Who? Who's gone?"

I shook myself, realizing I hadn't even said it.

"Lucifer. Lucifer's gone from hell. He's on earth."

* * *

As I stood in the grey zone, I truly felt the _greyness_ of it. It was raining; I was surrounded by dark clouds and marvelous curtains of falling water. The rain-slicked sidewalk reflects the sky nearly live a mirror. There is a moving nylon forest of umbrellas surrounding me, spreading their own droplets.

When I first arrived, I attracted a lot of attention. Any water that struck me instantly turned to steam. I had to deceive anyone's mind around me so that they didn't see I was a walking column of steam.

When I was properly cooled off, I lay down on the sidewalk. As I propped my head on my hands, I used my will to keep people away from me.

So here I am. Fresh from a blazing row with Beel and (I'll admit) feeling a little scared. I've dropped the Satan attachments. Being Satan was the only option apart from being an angel… not anymore. With that alter ego gone, it's a lot of weight off my chest… but I feel naked at the same time.

Forget Satan. I am not Satan. I am Lucifer Morningstar, and I've come to the grey zone; the place of choice, to make some of my own.

* * *

A/N: So what did you think? I really need reviews for this because otherwise I have NO idea if it's worth it or not. 

Please tell me what you thought!

Thank you very much!

Sike


	2. A devil put aside

Disclaimer: Trala lala la, spring is in the air, but I still don't own Good Omens. Poo.

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have been left out of the divine struggle, living as grey zone immortals. This works fine until Lucifer walks out on Hell, and right up to England. Why did he leave? Will it be Hell on earth? C/A and B/L slash.

AN: Aww, common, no more than 3? Tear. Tell your friends! I want a varied opinion on this thing, otherwise I won't know if this is going the right way or not. I want to improve, not plateau… CURSE PLATEAU! Okay, time for Sike's sugar brake. Read on! (oh, remember, every break is a change in POV.)

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**Chapter 2: A devil put aside**

"Zzzzz he didn't zzzay where, zzzz heezzzz juzzzt gonezzz."

I CAN'T _POSSIBLY_ IMAGE WHY HE'D WAN TO LEAVE SUCH A CHARMING PLACE.

Contrary to popular belief, not all of Hell is burning pain and torture. When you're demon or devil, you're used to flames, but that doesn't mean you want them around all the time.

Think of Hell as popular city. If you're tourist, you go there to see (and experience) what it's most famous for. If you've lived there all your life, you've seen the off-season. You see the underside, the stuff the tourists don't see. Hell is very much like a tourist trap, except you're less likely to look back on it and laugh.

So I live in Hell full time, born and raised. The place no one has ever seen or heard of is my workplace. I don't know what they call it up there anymore. They say you get to it from the Underworld… or maybe it was the Underground? I don't know; we've always called it the Floor. It's a huge corporate tower and I work at the top.

The top floor is the lowest point of Hell. How does that work? Beats me. Why do we have to come up with all the fucking answers? It's always why, why, why, why? I've got one for you.

Why did he leave?

I've been trying for days to find out. I said something, I know it was me. We were fighting, I don't even remember what about… and his face changed. I did something. Now he's gone.

I'm pacing in my office, the door is open and several demon interns are poking their pointed faces into my business. Each one is still clinging to the traditional demon look. They don't understand the true form of evil. The scariest creatures of the world wear ties. They'll get it eventually.

As I try to think of another thing to yell into my cell, my eyes trace over the eavesdroppers, causing them to scatter. From behind the ducking head of one I see the plaque on my door. It reads "B.L.". He did it, he thought it was funny. I'm angry again.

"Zzzz I don't zzzzee why zzyou can'tzzz zee me in perzzzon." I say into the phone.

TIME IS DIFFERENT DOWN THERE; I'VE GOT A STRICT SCHEDULE TO KEEP. I WOULD THINK YOU WOULD APPRECIATE THAT, BEELZEBUB, I'M ONE OF YOUR BIGGEST CONTRIBUTERS.

Even in the stress of the moment, that got a bitter chuckle out me. "You're zzzz our only zzzz contrizzzzzbutor."

"TRUE."

"Zzzzzback to zzz my requezzt." I remind him.

YES. I WILL SPEAK TO HIM FOR YOU, BUT IF HIS MIND IS MADE UP…

"Yezzz, I underzzztand zzzz."

ALRIGHT THEN. SO LONG AS YOU REMEMBER NOT TO SHOOT THE MESSENGER. I HAVE TO GET GOING, TIME WAITS FOR NO MAN.

"Zzzee ya."

NOT IF SEE YOU FIRST. I hate it when he says that.

So I guess for now, I only get to sit on the sidelines and wait.

* * *

We're at the bookshop, working. We actually let customers in to buy things now. It was my suggestion. I explained to Aziraphale that he could put his books in storage in the back, and sell normal mortal books in the back. He was pleased with the idea. I had always felt he wanted humans in the shop; he was just so damn protective of his books. 

Working today like nothing is wrong is tough. Pretending that we didn't find out yesterday that the world might be ending… again.

I'm behind the counter, Aziraphale is stocking the shelves. When he finishes with last book, he just stares at the place where the last book went in for a long time. I can't see his face, but he's so still. He's thinking about Lucifer. About what he might do? To know that someone who broke your heart like that could just walk back into your life… possibly to end it. I want to go over there to pull him out of his daze.

My eyes scan the room. There are only two people here… some guy in the self-help section whose appearance you could almost forget _as_ you looked at him, and this really tall bloke in the back flipping through a graphic novel. They won't notice if the cash is vacant for a moment…

* * *

"Love?" Arms wrap around my chest and a chin rests on my left shoulder. 

I blink away my daze, leaning my head against Crowley's. "Yes?"

"Won't you tell me?" His whisper is sad. Oh… he probably thinks it's because of him that I won't say… _it._

He knows there was something between Morningstar and I. I told him that it was nothing. I told him not to worry. I lied. He knew it hurt me to know he was back on earth, but he doesn't know why. I don't think I can tell him yet.

I keep waiting for a sign. Some sort of hint that he's here. A fire somewhere… or a crash. But then again… there's no reason for him to be in England at all. He could be anywhere.

I worry, though.

Why does the ultimate evil decide to just hop on the next astral plane to the grey zone? Not for the reason Crowley and I did. He wasn't forced to take orders from anyone. He was Satan.

Maybe…

* * *

"Maybe he's just here to find Adam." The grey angel says to the grey demon. He turns to face his partner, as though pleading for him to agree. 

Crowley muddles this over. "I suppose… but that only raises more questions. Lucifer doesn't just stroll away from his kingdom. After all, he coined the phrase "evil never sleeps."

I turn away, a little disgusted. I thought I was ready to see them… but I was wrong. A person doesn't change overnight… why would they assume that about me?

And Adam. Everyone thinks about my own son but me.

"_Zzzzo? Maybe we'll zzzz juzzt get Adam zzzzz to zzz take over zzzthe Floor!"_

Hmmm, I guess I'm still mad at Beel…

The book I'm holding starts to heat up in my hand. It starts smoking and I drop it on the floor. Busted…

They might have reacted, I don't know. I'm out the door, running down the sidewalk. I turn at the next available street and lean against the wall. I enjoy air, so I've been using breath recently, the downside of which is now I have to catch it. No joy comes without sacrifice.

Not exactly my best work, but I've been working hard to adjust with the grey zone. You don't realize how much of your life you spend in chains until you come here and suddenly the air is… is… so _full_ of choice.

Walk, run. Breathe, don't breathe. Wake, sleep. Remember, forget. Fly, fall. Sing, scream. Heal, wound. Be, do not be.

So many choices. This world is drugged with them, and nobody sees it.

At least I saw him again; my dearest.

Now that I stop to think about it, I wonder if Beelzebub and I were fighting about us… or about him. It's easy to tell if B.L. is emotional about something. He buzzes more.

The now grey immortal hasn't changed a bit. He's still beautiful and graceful. Still unreasonably kind. He even smiles the same. Although he wasn't smiling at me. Maybe I am still evil after all.

I've decided that I'm going to take a walk in the park. Maybe I will visit Adam… but I doubt it. We agreed, three months ago, that he had grown up with a real family and couldn't abandon them. I wasn't part of his life. (Although I do feel a bit better, knowing he still has Dog with him.)

I walk around the corner of the next street and walk headlong into…

Wait… that's not right. When you walk into someone, you don't stumble through them to land the side walk. I look up into a pair of star blue eyes.

"Oh, at the bookshop." How could I have missed him?

THAT'S RIGHT. SHALL WE GO FOR A WALK?" He extends his skeleton hand to help me up, which I accept. "WE NEED TO HAVE A LITTLE CHAT, LUCIFER.

"Well, I was just about to take a stroll around the park... what do we need to chat about?"

Death put his arm around my shoulders, steering me along the side walk.

I THINK MAYBE YOU NEED TO TELL SOMEONE WHY YOU'VE TURNED YOUR BACK ON HELL. IT IS, AFTER ALL, YOUR ENTERPRISE.

It's funny. I've been walking around, trying to figure out why I don't feel ready. Now I get it. I needed this. I needed a sympathetic ear. Well… he doesn't actually _have _ears, but you get what I mean. Everyone else gets prophets and mediums and gossips- er, that is gospels. I want someone to tell the truth to.

"Promise you won't tell B.L.?"

I'M FRIENDS WITH THE HIGHEST POWERS FIRST. HE DOESN'T EVEN NEED TO KNOW I FOUND YOU. SO WHAT HAPPENED?

"It might be easier if you let me tell you the beginning, first."

* * *

Aziraphale is all in a panic. I'm at a loss. 

The charred book left behind by our forgettable friend is still smoking a little. Aziraphale won't pick it up. He just paces in front of it. Swearing up a storm.

"Oh, bugger. Oh Christ. Oh, shit. He was here he was here he was here."

Every once in a while he walks up to me, cups my face with his hands, then backs away and begins to pace again.

I hate feeling this way. I don't understand what's going on! Why won't he tell me? I get distracted when the phone rings. Who could possibly be calling the store?

"Hello?"

"Demon! For the love of all things on that blessed planet, do not hang up this phone! I need to speak to Aziraphale immeadiately!" I rest the mouth piece on my shoulder.

"It's heaven, angel."

* * *

I despise words. I can't really use them. I try to communicate what I think and feel and it all goes wrong. Most of the time, people can barely hear the words I'm trying to say anyway. 

What word do I use for this feeling?

I could pick one, I've written them down on scraps of paper so that they cover my desk. A patchwork of loneliness, anger, jealousy, hate, sadness, depression, rage, pain, impatience, confusion, worry, love…

I hate all of these mortal words. They're cheap. Half of them don't even have a solid meaning behind them. What good are they?

I ignite the papers, one by one. The glow from my desk soothes me for a moment. I wonder what words Lucifer would write down.

Maybe that's what he's trying to do up there.

I guess to him, I've just been put aside. Left behind.

Damn it, I hate each and every phrase I've written. Why does hell not have its own language anymore? Mortal words are cheap.

* * *

AN: Yay, end of the chapter! I added in that it's B/L slash too, though I figured it as kinda obvious. 

Please feel free to tell me:

a) if there are typos  
b) if this sucks  
c) how I could do better  
d) what you liked  
e)i f you're annoyed with this lettered list.

Right…. I'll stop there. I know some people wanted me to get to Box first, but I'll do it later, okay? It does have 7 chapters right now….

Bye,

Sike


	3. Look up to the skies and see

**Chapter 3: Look up to the skies and see**

AN: Okay, I really just wanted to get this out, especially since the whip is a crackin' behind me. If it's too typo flooded, let me know and I'll fix it out. Oh, yeah, also I added the name of who his talking at the top of each section so that no one gets confuzzled. Peace.

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__Lucifer…_

Death and I are walking through the park. No one else is here except the two of us. For some strange reason, the place is completely deserted. Every bench, deserted. Every path at rest. Light grey clouds edged with blue meander overhead.

Alright, so originally, there were people in the park.

If you were about to spill your guts to someone… you'd want some privacy too, right?

SO WHAT HAPPENS IN THE BEGINNING?

"I didn't like how bright it was. Mephistopheles… he who does not like the light, and all I guess. I said: couldn't there be contrast? An edge? He said 'thou shalt not stray from the light, lest ye tumble into darkness'. But then I got to thinking…"

I BET _THAT_ WENT OVER WELL.

"Huh, yeah. So I was thinking: he didn't create the darkness, right, it was there first. Didn't that make it purer? He said that only light could be pure. I don't know… I asked 'isn't there some in between?' He says the only place in his plan for going against the light was the choice of evil. I was either Lucifer the angel or Satan the devil. So I said fine, and jumped."

AND THEN BEELZEBUB FOLLOWED.

"A whole bunch of them did. I don't remember when they started calling it 'falling'… but what an outrage. You can't do it by accident. The decision isn't like tripping on a bloody banana peel! When you do it, you really mean it!"

We round a corner to find a teenage girl sitting on the grass, reading a book. A bright smile lights up her entire face, sparkling in her eyes. Something funny is happening in her fake world. She has the sudden impulse to go home, which she cannot explain to herself. Alone once more.

WELL, THERE WAS THAT ONE TIME…

"He doesn't count. When did that being ever fit into a mold?"

APPOLOGIES… YOU WERE SAYING ABOUT THE JUMP?

"It was a band-wagon thing to most of them. They were exactly what I warned Him about. Too much constant light and you get all these anti beings just itching to go off the deep end."

THUS THE FLOOR IS BORN.

"Right. They built up the image, the ideas… the insanity. Fun wasn't fun anymore. It had to be sadistic. They used my name and plastered this ridiculous hoofed figure to it. We let the humans after Eden tip the scale to self-indulgence. God said I would go to the opposite pole of good. He was wrong. I was the only jumper not to. I went along with everything… because it was my strength fuelling them and I couldn't take it back. I couldn't take their choice away from them like that. I also let it go because really… hell was the only way to get what I wanted."

AND THAT WOULD BE?

"A spectrum. A beautifully complete spectrum."

_

* * *

__Aziraphale…_

Heaven was obviously slow on the uptake. I told them I didn't know where Lucifer was. (Which is true, he ran out, he could be anywhere.) I told them no, there wasn't any demonic activity going on, that I had seen. It took me ten minutes to get Metatron off the phone.

I'm not usually all over the place emotionally. I swear I'm not. I can be calm and composed.

Obviously today is not my day.

Crowley has closed down the shop. I didn't have to ask. I think he knew I didn't want to feel near mortals right now. He's sitting on the counter next to the cash register, letting his legs swing carelessly. _Thud Thud._ His heels hit the wood beneath him.

He took care of the burnt book while I was on the phone. When I saw the soot mark on the floor, I felt anxiety choking my throat.

He won't ask. He's just waiting. He loves me. Oh dear…

"'You keep testing my patience, angel, and you'll learn what agony looks like. It burns the feeling right out of you… and then what would you do?"'

_

* * *

__Crowley…_

I look up at my angel from my perch on the counter. He's standing right in front me, looking awkward. I can tell from the voice he used that those were not his words. It was something he heard.

"What's this?" I ask softly, reaching out to take his hands. His gaze is fixed on the wall behind me.

"Oh no you don't. This is me, Aziraphale, you don't get to feel awkward." I pull him forward, trapping his waist between my knees. I reach up and interlock my fingers behind his neck.

"He promised he'd come. He said that if I didn't leave you alone that he would come… and now he has." He bows his head a little and shudders.

"He said he would hurt you?" Not good not good not good. Bugger, Aziraphale has no idea how much the powers of hell can hurt. I can feel the anger against hell bubbling in my skin.

Just like old times.

But… my angel shakes his head. "No, he said he'd come after you."

And my life gets even better, great. Other people I can keep safe, but myself. Let's check my most recent idiocies: walking into a burning bookshop, walking in the Underground tunnels, trying to rewire a vcr… If I weren't immortal, I'd have been dead a long time ago.

Well, that doesn't sound too reassuring, Crowley. Time to lie. "He's not after me, don't worry. Lucifer is all talk."

_

* * *

__Beelzebub…_

Lucifer is all action. He does what his gut tells and flies off with it. Words are merely the trappings. The pins that hold down what he feels. I am neither.

**_"We aren't evil! You don't understand what evil is!"_**

**_"Zzzz oh? Zzzhen what izzzz thizzzz?"_**

**_"This? This is a trap, and I have to get out. He knew what he was doing, escaping. I have a mind to join him."_**

**_"Zzz I zzee who'zz more zzzz important to zzzz you zzen…"_**

**_"Think what you want, I'm jumping."_**

**_"Againzzzz? Zzzhat's all zzzz you ever zzz dozzz!"_**

**_"Good-bye, B.L."_**

And then next day, he was gone. When I was mad at him, I felt like he was trying to pull me away from my loyalties to hell. (I am a Prince, after all.) I thought he would make a betrayer out of me.

When he acted just like he said he would, I knew my loyalties had been but under strain. But my loyalties were to him.

So now I stand on the roof of the Floor. The edge is right in front of my toes and the wind is all ready tugging, trying to make my decision for me. I'm preparing to jump… again.

Directions are skewered in hell, as I've said before. My head tilts up to look at the endless swirl of neon-coloured flames, but really I'm looking down.

When I peer over the edge of the building, I'm looking up to the skies. Full to the brim with rolling grey clouds. Most demons don't see the sky. If they were to jump, they would strike a jagged field of asphalt. How come Lucifer and I can see it?

Maybe we were both meant to jump.

Maybe we were both meant to leave two kinds of control. I think the first time I just traded when set of constraints for another.

I don't spread my arms. No. I'm not foolish enough to think I can fly.

I just jump down into the sky and let it swallow me up.

_

* * *

__Aziraphale…_

I knew as soon as he tried to reassure me that Crowley was lying to me. But I let him. I had reached my limit of stress. I wanted to smile again, even if it would only be until the inevitable arrived.

So I allowed myself to laugh at Crowley's bluff and lean in to kiss him. When he parts lips with mine I can feel the left over anger that had been rising inside him.

Pulling away, I trace my cool fingers along his jaw line, bringing us both to a calm state. I am not an angel anymore, but I still know the tricks for banishing discontent.

"Now you understand," I say, "can we just deal with it a later?"

Crowley is searching my eyes. I know the look. He's trying to decide if I'm really alright or just being brave.

"Of course." Whichever conclusion he came to, he knows I need to look the other way right now.

His legs come around my waste, pulling me closer. His fingers around my neck pull our heads together. He slides his tongue across my lower lip, and I can tell that the anger is gone.

I need this moment.

* * *

_Lucifer…_

I've told him everything. Every single thing. I have a feeling he'll be leaving soon, except…

"What is it?" I can't help the bored tone; Death is really no master at conversation.

SORRY?

"You want to say something, go on."

TWO THINGS, ACTUALLY.

"Yes?" He waits for no man, but I swear he would wait all day to finish a sentence if I didn't prod him.

ONE, BEELZEBUB HAS NO UNDERSTANDING OF HOW YOU FEEL, AND NOW YOU'RE GONE.

Ouch, too true for my taste. "And second?"

We've left the park and turned onto a busy street. People pass through Death and around me as though we weren't here.

SECOND, YOU'RE NOT AS FREE AS YOU MIGHT THINK.

What? Where did that come from?

BEST OF LUCK, MORNINGSTAR. He fiddles in his robes and pulls out an hourglass. I HAVE SOMEWHERE I NEED TO BE.

Before I can ask him what the bloody hell he was talking about he's gone.

I look up to the skies, almost hoping to see the answer there.

And maybe I do.

The clouds are heavy overhead, a strong promise of another classic London rain. And yet…

I could've sworn the sky was blue just moments before.

* * *

_DEATH…_

A MAN STANDS ON THE SIDEWALK, SHRIEKING INTO A SPEAKING DEVICE THE SIZE OF HIS HAND.

"I don't bloody care! We aren't vigilantes for Christ's sake. This is about two things: winning and money. Good and evil don't enter into this. Leave your morals at home! This is the big league."

ABSORBED AS HE IS IN HIS CONVERSATION, HE DOESN'T NOTICE HIS DEMISE APPROACHING HIM. I READY MY SCYTHE.

"Oh really? I'll bet he won't be saying that when I… huh?" HE LOOKS UP JUST A MOMENT BEFORE IT HAPPENS.

WITH A LEVEL HAND, I STRIKE AS THE FLAMING BODY COLLIDES WITH THE MORTAL AT IMPRESSIVE SPEED.

"Hello? Are you still there, Andre? Hello?" HE IS STILL TRYING TO TALK, BUT IT'S USELESS. A DEAD PERSON CAN'T USE THE TELEPHONE.

AS I LEAD THE LAWYER AWAY I LOOK OVER MY SHOULDER TO SEE THE RESULT OF THE CRASH.

A MAN LIES IN A CRATER FILLED WITH CRUMBLED SIDEWALK AND EXPLODED LAWYER. HIS CLOTHES ARE STILL SLIGHTLY ON FIRE. HIS HAND RISES TO RUB HIS FACE.

"Zzzzshit, zzzthat zzzhurtszzzz!"

* * *

AN: Done oh yeah yeah!

How was it? Call me -


	4. Body's Aching All the Time

**Chapter 4: Body's aching all the time**

Disclaimer: You really don't believe me when I say I claim no ownership? Well, in the words of Lord Vader: "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

AN: This chapter is dedicated with love, affection and sprinkles to my sister: STEPHANIE! She turns 18 today so wish her Happy Birthday. Now she gets to pretend she's not as immature as yesterday, heh heh. She gets a walk on role because… well, just because. Bonne Fete, Saucy!

On with the fic.

_

* * *

_

Beelzebub…

I've regained consciousness, and I find myself lying in a very soggy crater in the ground. Oh… I seem to have obliterated a mortal on the way down.

Hmm, he was probably due to die anyway…

Before passing out, I had only the opportunity to curse. Basically, I still need a moment to recognise my surroundings. Oh shit! And to extinguish my sleeve.

Well… I'm definitely on earth, so point one. The only trouble is I've no idea where on earth _he_ is.

I manage to pull myself to my feet. A slight shift of my shoulders mends the rips and burns on my suit. (Unfortunately it does nothing for the blood and gore, which I'm still lathered with.)

A girl (or perhaps young woman) is coming this way clutching a stack of books. She walks in long powerful strides, though not necessarily because she's in a hurry. I grab her by the forearm as she walks by to stop her. She jerks away from my hand but stops all the same.

"ZzzI need zzz to azzzk you zzz a queztion." I explain. Our eyes are practically level but her gaze darts to my shoulder, to the ground, anywhere but my eyes.

She nods, not seeming to notice the buzzing in my voice. Blues eyes behind black frames stare very determinedly away from me.

"ZzzWhat zzzcity iszzz thiszz?" She nearly looks right at me in surprise, but manages not to all the same.

"London." She says very quietly. It's almost as if she doesn't want me to hear. And with that she turns on her heel and walks away, running a hand over her smoothly gelled hair. I've left a bloody handprint on her bright blue sleeve.

London. The grey entities are here. This must be where Lucifer is too.

I feel a twinge somewhere in my mind. It pulls me in the direction of the nearest grey.

I can't use this skill to find Lucifer, but I can use it to find Crowley.

_

* * *

Crowley…_

I've never closed my eyes. Not when I'm awake that is. Not when I'm snoggin' either. Call me crazy, but I just don't get the appeal. Most people do it to "lose themselves in the moment" or "enhance the feeling".

I dunno… why would I want to close my eyes when I could be looking at Aziraphale? When I could be watching the plethora of expressions that fly across the face of a person being kissed? When I could see how he responds to this or that touch? I would never miss it.

That's why I saw him.

I'm watching my angel's face move and flush, when something behind him catches my eye. Something standing in the shop window, staring right at us.

Something soaked in blood.

_

* * *

Aziraphale…_

Crowley jerks back from me and falls over the other side of the counter, hitting the ground with a squawk of surprise.

"Oh my! Are you alright, dear?" I bend over the counter to see Crowley trying to become less of a heap.

At first all I get is a grunt of recognition. Then his head jerks back up and he regards me with a wide eyed expression. "Beelzebub!"

I shake my head at him. "No, love… have you hit your head? I'm Aziraphale. You know, your… um-"

"No no no…" He pulls himself to his feet, pointing over my shoulder. "He's here."

I spin around and there he is. A Prince of Hell. Covered in someone else's blood.

I should be afraid. I should be terrified. Panicked. But I'm not. It's hard to be afraid of someone who looks completely miserable. He watches us with a dismal attitude. His arm is half-lifted… frozen in hesitation. All these subtle attitudes tell me all that I really need to know. He's not after us.

Beelzebub lifts hand and knocks timidly at the door.

"Come in." I say quickly, not wanting Crowley to chase him away. My voice sounded odd… oh, I see.

We both said it at the same time.

_

* * *

Lucifer…_

The apartment is sparsely furnished. There's very little in each room and yet it still feels like the place cost a fortune.

It's cold, too. Not necessarily coulour-wise, (although the black fabric does nothing for warmth) but the room is uninviting. It stretches out in empty space, as though designed only to be looked at. It's like the room is saying: _"don't be here, don't stay long and don't you fucking dare sit down or make yourself at home." _

And it doesn't look like anyone has. At least not for a while. Every surface is covered in quite a bit of dust. A surprising amount of greenery has become a dry, brown, brittle graveyard for houseplants.

At any rate, the rooms feel cruel. Oh well. I'm staying.

I walk into the airy bedroom and fall backwards onto the immaculately made bed. The air that my body pushes out of the sheets almost hisses… as though the bed is angered that I have disturbed its perfection.

Nothing and nobody that is truly perfect knows it themselves. I'd say it's a pity, except I love how satisfying it is to see unnoticed perfection. People who don't realise that perfection does not mean an absence of flaws.

"What are you doing to yourself?" I ask the ceiling. The stubborn bugger will give me no answers. "At least before you had a direction."

I had a direction, and a life, and I jumped from it all. I say it's because of spectrum and balance and blah blah blah… But I'm not sure that's really true at all. Maybe I keep jumping because I have to keep moving, because I can't settle down, because I can't live without change…

In that case, I got what I wanted, right? But I still don't seem to be satisfied. I couldn't even face harsh words from my past. I'm entertaining the idea of changing back to what I knew.

But that's the one kind of change I can't do. I can only move forward. I can't go back. I can't get back and now I have this dull pain where the organ that pumps mortal blood should be. I never considered having one before.

"At least before I had him."

_

* * *

Beelzebub…_

They let me in, demanding that I use their shower before anything else. It was a blessing to be able to clean the leftover bits of lawyer off my skin.

I hadn't intended to receive their hospitality. I had _intended _to do things the way hell did them; with violence and fear and shouting. But I walked up to the window and was smacked in the face with a grey zone revelation. Two beings… in love, who had given up causes and sides to be together. And I realised I didn't have to be evil here. Just because I was expected to be. And realised that I wasn't angry at either of them.

I just want what they have.

Now we're sitting in the back room of their shop clutching cups of tea in various phases of emptiness.

It turns out that they know even less about what's happening than I do. (Which is depressing to say the least). The one consolation is that now I _know _that he's close by. Now all I have to do is find him, and hope he still wants to see me…

"So, you don't think he's here to hurt anyone?" The angel (uh, that is, grey angel) Aziraphale asks for the second time. His hand grips Crowley's protectively. I have a feeling that I know why he's asking, but I don't show it.

"I zzz don't thinkzzz _he_ even knowszzz why he'zzz herezzz." I say, "the lazt time zzzz we actually zzspoke he waz… hey zzzz do you feel zz that zzz?"

_

* * *

Crowley…_

I'm about to answer in the negative when I feel it too. It feels like weights have been wrapped around my wrists and ankles. They drag down on me and squeeze a little, causing pain.

The unexplained pressure has coldness to it too. A cold clamp that could almost be metal, except that… except that there's nothing there.

"What the bloody…" I alternate rubbing each wrist in the feeble hope that it will get rid of the feeling.

"What is this?" Asks Aziraphale, completely astonished. He rises to his feet and gasps in shock. "It's hard to move!"

"Is this something of yours?" I demand of Beelzebub. It wouldn't be the first time that visitors from Hell dragged up little nasty things along with them.

"Zzzzof courze not zzz! I have zzz no idea zzz what thizzz izz!" He shifts about in his own discomfort.

Aziraphale brings his hand to my shoulder.

_

* * *

Aziraphale…_

"Calm down, whatever it is it's not killing us." I say, reasoning with Crowley. He looked near ready to rip Beelzebub's head off.

"I know," he replies, "but it's just that… bugger, I've had enough of unexplainable occurrences to last me a little bit longer than the two months we've had!" He jerks his arm upwards as though to pull back against the grip on his wrist, but it doesn't seem to do anything.

Beelzebub gets up from the table and heads back towards the door. "Well zzz I've got zzzz to go zzzz. I can't zzzstop looking zzz for him zzz."

"Oh, well… how are you going to find him?" I can't see how he could find Lucifer when he could be _anywhere_ in London by now.

A glint appears in his eye that's not quite sorrowful and a little more demonic than I like to see…

"I zzzsure I'll zzzz think of zzzomething."

I turn back to Crowley as Beelzebub leaves. There's still tea things on the table… I feel the ache in my ankles as I walk up the apartment stairs with them.

"Crowley," I say as I come back down the stairs.

He's looking at the window with a frown on his face. "The oddest thing…" His expression snaps away as he looks over. "Yes?"

"You feel like getting a pint?" I'm not usually up for the mundane stuff, but there's a first time for everything.

"Hell, yeah."

_

* * *

Lucifer…_

The balcony is small, but decently high, for London standards. I stand at the very edge, with my arms draped over the railing. I swing my hands back and worth, watching the odd effect it creates. The chains of my shackles swing back and forth.

I don't know where they come from, but they're here and I can't do much about them. My mind is too dulled right now to really mind.

They are quite beautiful, though. Silver and shining. Cold little buggers that clench my wrists and ankles. The chains are slack. I can see about three feet of chain extending from each shackle before they gently fade away. They must be attached to something, but I get the feeling that whatever it is, it's very far away.

I can tell the time by the light (or lack thereof) of the sun. But I have no idea what time of day it is now. It could be any. It could be night.

All that is overhead is a passionless coat of overcast. It's so solid that it doesn't even look like clouds. Instead, the clouds seem to flood London in the form of fog.

Something is out of place… isn't it? None of the mortals seem to notice… but they're used to this sort of weather in London. Maybe it's only that there was only one view overhead when I lived on the Floor.

Well, I can hardly click my heels and return, so I'll just have to except what's in front of me.

A tendril of wind snakes by my face. It brings with it the coolness and moisture of the fog as well as… another sense.

A sense that does not fit among the five mortal ones.

"No…"

* * *

AN: And that's it! Friends, countrymen, Romans, lend me your reviews!

I beseech you.


	5. Any way the wind blows

**Chapter 5: Any way the wind blows.**

Disclaimer: Look over there, a distraction! Please fail to notice that I'm borrowing the Good Omens universe! Thank you.

AN: Just so you know, I'm feeling a little uncertain about this fic. It seems like it's kind of running aground. Anyway, if I could have people let me know, one way or the other, what they think… that would be great.

Merci.

* * *

_Azirphale…_

"What do you suppose he meant by that?" I ask nervously. We're sitting at a back table in a pub called Old Hobb's. The drinks have a tang to them that I don't think I'll ever be able to wash out of my mouth.

Still, I'm working down my third pint.

I can't help worrying about things. It's been almost… _programmed_ into my nature. When I was an angel it was a constant voice in my head: _Am I doing the right thing? Am I sinning? Is this the right choice? What happens if I make the wrong choice? Am I even allowed to choose?_

I haven't broken that habit, not quite, but nowadays I worry about Crowley more than I do the right thing.

Crowley shrugs at my question. "You mean about finding Lucifer? Well… well… he is a demon after all."

He seems keener on finishing his drink than pondering my question. When his glass is empty a waitress swings by and replaces it with another.

She probably doesn't even realise that she's done it.

Yes, Beelzebub is a demon. What's worse, he's a desperate one. He wants to find him, to resolve whatever fight they had and get him back to hell.

I can't imagine what's gotten into him. There must be some extreme management problems going down in hell.

When I raise my glass I find that I've numbed my senses so badly that I can barely feel the bleak pressure around my wrist.

Hell is in pieces… something is very wrong. I just want to drink through it all. Just pass out with Crowley and…

Crowley.

* * *

_Crowley…_

"Crowley?"

"Yeah?" My head weighs a ton, but I manage to lift it off the table to look my angel in the eye. Oh, damn it.

From the look on his face, I can tell he's got something important to talk about. I hope he doesn't expect me to sober up for this… I haven't drunk myself under the table just yet.

"You know how Lucifer said he'd kill you if I didn't stay away from you?" His voice is still slurred, good. I'm not going to sober up either.

"Yeah…"

"Well, I was… I was thinking… why did he do that? It was as if he wanted to- I dunno…" My eyes grow wide as Aziraphale tries to plough his way through his inebriated thoughts,

I really don't like where this is going.

"I mean think about it… he was using the threat that he knew would scare me the most… keep me away, right? If he'd said that he would kill me, well, it wouldn't have done much, would it? The worst it woulda done was hurt _you_. So really-"

Shit. I've sobered up. I've got to stop him. "Aziraphale, don't." I try to grab his animated hands but he pulls them away, frowning.

"So really, he was trying to keep you safe, wasn't he?"

_

* * *

Aziraphale…_

Crowley jumps up from the table, spilling his drink all over the place. He turns and bolts out of the pub.

What the hell?

I sober myself up, trying to get this straight. Things add up a lot more quickly. Except the answer I'm coming up with can't be right. He didn't…

"CROWLEY!" I have no dignity in tact as I tear out after him. I want to know.

I need to know.

_

* * *

Beelzebub…_

The sky overhead is beautiful, I'll admit that. The grey blanket is powerful and silent. People walking the streets regard this view with mixed feelings.

Some trot down the sidewalks, giving the sky the occasional, wary glance. Others are more relaxed. They timidly clutch umbrellas and listen hopefully for the first clap of thunder.

It is this second kind of human that understands rain better. They know that the rain will eventually pull down the clouds, so that they can see the sun. They understand the price to be paid to obtain what they desire.

I prefer the dark rainless dome with a wind swirling within it.

It makes my little scene more impressive.

The flames are a good twenty feet high now. They glow strong and blue against the mist coated pavement. The shadows cast are a dark blue-green.

Good. It's good. And, if I'm any judge, it'll get a bit higher before it's finished.

People have started to scream and run towards my handiwork. Time for me to go.

I turn my back on the chaos, walking carelessly down the street. That feeling against my wrists lessens, but refuses to go away.

It was rash, it was flashy, but I don't care.

I had convinced myself that he came here because Crowley is here… but he isn't with the demon. The demon has his own lover now.

I don't understand. Why did he leave everything behind? What am I missing that everyone else found in this obscure little zone?

My eyes are stinging. It must be ashes from the fire.

_

* * *

Lucifer…_

I would say that it can't be, except my senses don't lie to me.

The wind is curling up to the balcony where I'm sitting, still sporting my bizarre yet ineffective restraints. The misty breeze holds a feeling that I could never confuse with anything else.

It's the feel of a hell creature. One of my boys.

Or, well, they were my boys.

Whichever way you look at it, I still can't tell _who_ it is. And really, I shouldn't be that surprised that someone is here. Hell beings enter human form all the time. It's the easiest way to get to earth.

Not to mention a little less, ah, permanent than how I got here.

I suspect that it's one of the dukes… Hastur, most likely. He so rigidly adores the image of Satan.

Once he realizes that he can't drag me back, maybe I can convince him to take it on himself…

I can hear screaming…

It's far away, past mortal hearing, but the wind brings it to me. It's accompanied again by that feeling of a resident of Hell.

They wouldn't destroy the world just to find me…

I told them not to.

There is a blue light flickering up from between buildings to the north. With a silver sky as a background, it looks likes the surface of water. I have no reason to suspect that the screams came from there. But the light is more beautiful than a cry of panic… slightly.

I swing my legs over the railings, my phantom chains cause me to land a little heavier than I normally would, but I can still get around gravity.

_

* * *

Crowley…_

I am not brave, never was. Under normal circumstances, I would say that I prefer to be smart rather than brave.

Normal hasn't been around for centuries.

I'm an idiot, I'm a blithering idiot.

I rip along the pavement, touching the ground just long enough to throw myself forward. I don't remember if I was wearing shoes before, if I was then I've worn them away and my immortal steps dig into the solid pavement.

My wings have stretched to their full spread, making me but a silver blur to anyone who notices.

I'm an idiot, a fool, but I can't help it. I know full well that I can't run from this fear. But I can try.

He knows now, doesn't he? My angel is sharp… he understands.

Lucifer loved me. I still love him.

I left heaven when he jumped. Not because I knew that it would be better, but because I knew he would be there.

I forgot about Aziraphale.

And now I've ruined everything.

_

* * *

Aziraphale…_

"CROWLEY!" I yell at the top of my lungs, a pure shout that will reach every ear in the grey zone. I feel it wear my vocal cords right out.

Bloody hell… I've silenced myself.

I can feel the tears stream down my face and I know that I've lost him. I rush down one final street, and lean against the wall of an alley.

I gasp for air as lurching sobs rake my throat. No sound comes.

What happened? What did I say?

My optimism is running thin. I believe that a demon would only protect someone useful or beloved… And Crowley was never a useful demon.

Lucifer loves him. And Crowley… well he must love him back.

He was afraid when he heard that Lucifer was here. Well, so was I… but I was afraid that Lucifer would hurt him.

Was he afraid that I would find something out…

_"… if he's feeling violent then I should get you out as far away as-"_

He was panicky himself, at first. But then he was busy dealing with my problems. Did he want us both to find safety… or did he want me out of the way?

I feel like an anxious youth, despite the fact that I never **was** one. I know that he loves me, I know it. All those times I was so close to his heart, I… I know it.

Maybe he just loves Lucifer more.

Shocked human voices bounce into the alley… I step out into the street to find that an enormous crowd has gathered to watch some blue- ah, Beelzebub's "ways".

I barely give it a moments notice. I walk quickly into the crush of people. The whole crowd sways ever so slightly to keep out of reach of the fire. I'm practically running past people, searching faces and eyes.

It's crazy, it's insane… but I can't shake the idea that he's here, that I'll find him if keep looking.

"Bugger!"

Maybe I would have been looking longer if I'd been watching where I was going.

_

* * *

Lucifer…_

Oh my… it's so beautiful.

The screams were coming from the blue light. It burns heartlessly along a colourless ware house. It doesn't feed off of anything, it crawls down the building, sliding into the street towards and iron statue on cobblestone courtyard.

The teal shadows that slither along every surface make the mortal faces strange and inhuman.

It's a wonderland.

The crowd is horrified, mesmerized and enthralled. No one understands this moving wonder… it towers at least a hundred feet and leaves frosted ash in its wake, though it harms nothing.

No one dares to touch it, which is probably just as well.

"_Crowley!" _A whisper shouts its way into my ear and I see people around me flinch. Soft and echoing, but powerful, an angel cry if I ever heard one.

It sounded so distraught… maybe I should see what's going- OH!

I put my hand into the blue flames and now they are shivering and turning this deep violet right in front of me. Who created this thing?

"Ah!" Without warning, a body slams me into the ground

_

* * *

Crowley…_

My face is burning horribly. My shame clings to me fiercely and it refuses to go away. What is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with me?

As I was running in between these two apartment buildings I was thinking to myself: 'When was the last time that I ran this fast?'

I'm still now because I remember.

It was the day I ran to find Aziraphale. So I could tell him how much I love him.

He's alone now, and I've falsely confirmed his worry. He must hate me. I've handed him pain and confusion and danger. It's not him who has feelings for the Lord of Hell.

Or maybe… maybe it's just the opposite. I lied to him and now I've left him to stew in his own juices. By now he must think that I hate him.

Aziraphale.

Oh God, I'm such a bastard… OW!

The invisible presence around my wrists has doubled tenfold. It feels like I'm being bound by four vices that are all being tightened to an unbearable point. As I look down at myself, I can see a visible shape forming around my wrists and ankles.

Chains.

Shackles and chains that run down the alley and around the next corner.

And- hey… the tug is getting stronger. Any stronger and the force would pull me down the street.

DAMN IT!

The force of the chains just increased so fast I- ugh, I can't compare it. I think my skull may have cracked… anyway; I'm definitely leaving a trail of blood along the road as I'm being ripped along the street. (Which feels more like sandpaper, come to think of it.)

Ah, I think I remember this ride. A special feature in the fifth torture dimension of Hell…

As I slam into the brick corner of the building, I'm too weak to make a grab for it.

I can't flail, I can't protect my head… and though a mortal would have; I can't even die.

Around into the next alley… there's some sort opening in the- no, not the wall.

It's an opening in midair. It's all black beyond, with smoke curling around the edges.

I guess I should be panicking about whatever's going on… but sleep and release from pain seems like a better idea.

_

* * *

Beelzebub…_

He's there. We're separated by swarm of humans who've come to watch my creation. I was hoping that one of them would touch it, so that he can see what it can do. Sadly, mortals seem to have this base instinct to keep themselves out of harm's way.

Pity.

He's captured by the sight of it; though I'm sure he thinks it's all because of the beauty of the light and colour. He can believe that for now. I can wait.

I move forward through the crowd, coming nearer and nearer. Maybe I'll let him know I'm here… maybe…

I'm standing two, almost three feet behind him. I could almost reach out and put my hand on his shoulder.

The flames have changed to purple. He's touched the flames. I can almost feel those delicate fingers on my chest. I'm caught in a war with myself… whether to stay silent or to-

"Bugger!"

What the- a body topples into me one that feels distinctly…

An angel! I can't stop the follow through, I stumble forward-

"Ah!"

Bringing Lucifer down with us.

The angel Aziraphale falls to the ground a little to the right, but I land right on top Lucifer. He coughs a little on impact. I raise myself up and he turns beneath me to look at my face.

Our eyes meet and I forget how to move.

"B.L….."

* * *

AN: shuffles nervously 


	6. Life from this monstrosity

**Disclaimer**: **I have it somewhere… I think I left it on the thing. You know; that thing on the thing next to the thing with the thing in it? Yeah, it's definitely there.**

A/N: I realise that I lot of times, I have made excuses for my work. But I don't think I will this time. It's not that it's perfect… or that I myself wouldn't find flaws in it. It's just that I'd rather let it stand on its own. I apologize for making presumptions in the past, and invite any reader to make up their own mind.

It isn't exactly a birthday chapter, Saucy, but you did want me to update so Tadah!

Yes, I realize this chapter is shorter than the last one… but could you keep it on the DL?

(I wouldn't want this chapter to get a complex.)

Merci,

Sike

_

* * *

Crowley…_

I'm awake again, not that I feel any better for it. My head feels like it's been scalped… Oh right, that jolly little drag down the road. The light in here is blinding, but it contains bizarre red patches to it.

Oh.

Oh bloody hell.

My situation becomes a bit clearer as I realise that the red patches are indeed blood that has run down my body and over my eyes. The extremely disorienting feeling I would normally connect to being hung over is due to the fact that I am hanging upside down by my ankles.

"Huh-grblfgnishhlppss" (It is rather difficult to speak through a broken jaw.)

Hey! What asshole broke my jaw?

I try to squirm out of the chains which suspend me from the… uh, I assume there's a ceiling in this place- but all I get for it is further rocking and swaying. This is doing nothing for my mounting nausea. A mortal would have had the grace to stay passed out in this situation.

But I'm not mortal so… hey, that's right. Why am I suffering? I'm an immortal. I can change my very reality with my mind. (Not to mention all the free beer I can get.)

All I have to do is assume. Assume to alter. Let's start with the basics.

My jaw is intact.

My jaw is intact.

My jaw is intact.

Myjawisintact!

Now!

Now be intact!

AHHH!

Jaw! Get intact already!

Hmm… this is a problem.

Tap-Tap-Tap-

Someone comes to stand in front of me. I try and look up to see his face, but my stiff neck violently rejects the idea. He has nice boots though… made out of fine leather. I haven't seen that kind leather since the Norman invasion.

The chain lifts up, bringing me slowly higher until I am face to face with the guy wearing the kick ass boots.

Ah, not that I can describe him in any way. There's some sort of fierce energy around him that makes looking at him like staring into the sun. It burns, and it might make you go blind.

"Mmmrphmm…." I say, before someone has the decency to repair my jaw.

"Ow, could you turn that off?"

"No way, it's one of the perks of my position."

"Well, do you have a pair of sunglasses on you?"

The being smiles at me.

"Oh, how long are you going to pretend to be calm, Crowley?"

"Right up until I get nervous, mate." The effect is spoiled by the noise bleed that I seem to be developing.

"You know, Crowley, I like your attitude."

"Am I supposed to know your name, too?"

"You can call me Stoph."

"Is that what your friends call you?"

"No."

"Alright, Stoph it is."

_

* * *

Lucifer…_

The great column of fire has vanished, and the onlookers have all but gone, save for a few of the more curious.

Time has passed since I said his name, but neither of us have moved. His expression seems to be a mixture of relief and fear.

I can understand the fear part. I can still barely believe he's here. Will he try to take me back to hell? I don't think I could stand a conversation like that. If I push him away, he'll get angry. If I hurt him badly enough, he'll give up on me.

And then everybody can be miserable. Great.

I look to my left for an instant and find Aziraphale staring at me. There is a look of grim determination on his face. If he's blaming me for something, he's most likely right to do so.

"B.L.?" I say, hoping that he'll say something to thin this barrier between us.

His expression alters and he opens his mouth.

"ZZzzz rzzzzdd zzzbzzz thzzz cozzzz."

The buzzing is so bad I can't make out a single word. He looks down, frustrated.

He tries again.

"ZZZLuziferzzz zzrrrdzzz bekzzzz whenzzzz zzzszzndzzz zov zu zzzffrr."

He covers his face. Whatever it is he wants, it's hard for him to say. A good-bye, maybe? Is that all this is about?

_

* * *

Beelzebub…_

I have never hated myself more than I do at this moment.

Did I think everything would be better once I found him?

Anxiety has such a tight hold on my throat that I can barely swallow, let alone form a sentence. I pull Lucifer to his feet and embrace him. He doesn't even hesitate to bring his arms around me. And I thought I would surprise him with my display of affection.

After a few moments he withdraws… the air between us is overwhelming. I feel weak and have to check myself to keep from reaching out for him.

"ZZzz don'zztt leavzze me zzz." The words tumble out, beyond my control.

Lucifer is shaking his head, looking miserable. What? I don't understand.

"Luzzifer zzzz… pleazzze zzzz."

"No, Beelzebub, I already chose. I _have _left you."

He's… but… My eyes are stinging and I'm suffocating under the pain.

"Zzzz!" I grab him by the shoulders, forcing him into a deep kiss. His body reciprocates immediately. A shudder passes through him as he lets his mouth open with mine. Oh father of lies… this is how you kiss someone you don't want?

In hell, everything is done in pantomime. Every pain more outrageous and every passion more heated and frantic than the next. At the top of the floor, where sinister intent is at its cruellest, the physicality of evil is left behind. Our minds held the flames; every ounce of energy was spent in cunning and manipulation.

We haven't kissed before. There wasn't room for spontaneous actions.

This is amazing. I am part of my body, instead being trapped within it. And the passion… it has such an open, honest taste to it that I'm almost afraid of it.

When Lucifer pushes me away, my face is wet with his tears.

_

* * *

Aziraphale…_

"I can't… I can't!" Lucifer says breathlessly.

My thoughts are swirling around each other. They move so fast that I don't know how to respond.

An instant of pity for Beelzebub's misery.

My loneliness calling for Crowley.

Hate accusing Lucifer of stealing my lover.

Shame twisting before my uncharacteristic anger.

Sadness… complete unto itself.

"Zzzzz zzzz zzzz zz." The desperate, wavering tone makes up for the absence of words.

The hurt on Beelzebub's face has no effect on Lucifer's anger.

"I chose, I won't go back!" He turns the other way, taking two steps before he vanishes into thin air.

The clouds overhead have withered away. The sky is sunless, but the night has not yet dominated it. The wind has gone away,too, leaving humid air to stand on ceremony.

"ZZWhere hazzz zzzhe gonezzzz?" Beelzebub says. His eyes darken; the sign of anger starting to cover up his pain. The air around him is shimmering ever so slightly, like the dizzy air above an asphalt mirage.

"He'll find Crowley…" my voice sounds empty, "that's who he really loves, isn't it?"

Aah!

I barely get the chance to gasp before Beelzebub shoves me into the nearest building. He keeps me pinned, steadily tightening his grip on my neck.

_

* * *

Crowley…_

"Oh my, that all looked rather intense, didn't it?" Says Stoph gleefully, waving away the image of my suffocating angel.

"He's going to kill him!" I shout, before I remember that he won't give a shit.

"I thought he was immortal…"

"You know what I mean, he'll be sent into a hell dimension!"

"Oh no!" Stoph cries in mock dismay. "We should tune in next week to see what happens, eh Crowley?"

He brings his face so close to mine that he nearly blinds me with his luminescence.

"Get that light out of my face, you wanker!" I spit at him, which doesn't really work upside down. I just barely miss spitting on my own forehead.

Stoph stands up straight, laughing. A dark archway has started to form behind him, similar to the one that I was dragged through in the first place.

"You know, I don't think I can wait. I'm so intrigued; I want to be involved in the action!"

The blinding white light starts to fade. As it gets dimmer, I can start to make out his features. Hey, he almost looks like…

Shit.

Things are about to get much worse.

When the glow is gone, Stoph does a little twirl and smiles at me.

"How do I look?"

He looks at me from over his dark sunglasses with golden, snake-like eyes beaming. The hair colour is exactly the right darkness. Needless to say, the devilishly attractive cheekbones and trademark grin are also precisely on par.

"Like me. You look exactly like me." I mutter bitterly.

"Very good!" Stoph coos at me like I'm a small child.

"Bloody, shagging, ass-wanker!" I shout, despite the fact that my insult makes no sense. "Don't you dare hurt him!"

"Which one?" Says my evil double, "Aziraphale or Lucifer?"

"I…"

"Too late! You hesitated! I'll decide for you." He turns to the archway, disappearing in its deep, grey smoke.

What did I just do?

Why did I falter? The answer should have jumped to my mouth immediately, shouldn't it?

If I was sure, it would be instinctual. Not to say that I'm uncertain, because I am.

Err- I'm not not uncertain… that is I am certain. No, uh-

Shut up brain!

Shit… Crowley this is not the time to get confused!

It's this entire blood flow problem that's messing me. Yes. If I could just stop the blood from rushing out of my nose, I would be thinking straight.

* * *

End of chap! Be kind and rewind…. err, review.

Hey! Have you all forgotten about Tibet?

Don't forget Tibet!

Liberté, égalité, fraternité!

-Sike


	7. Love me and leave me to die

A/N: Boo! It's me.

I realise that I haven't updated anything in eons. (Except for the one I just did a few days ago.)

I know people want me to update more often.

This I intend to do, honest.

Between you and me, my pills, the psychiatrist and the psychologist, maybe I could get a little slack?

That would be cool.

-Sike

* * *

Hic Tandem Felicis Conduntar Reliquae - Chapter 7

**Love me and leave me to die**

_

* * *

Beelzebub… _

I could've kept squeezing. Let the rest of my frustration work itself out in the suffering of this grey angel.

But I stopped, and now he's watching me. I don't like his expression but I don't seem to be able to wipe it off his face.

This is mercy… something I'm not used to.

I don't know why I'm sparing him. It just seemed that destroying his corporeal form wasn't going to satisfy me.

Strange. It does the trick with incompetent underlings.

But the violence is a waste. I can't make Aziraphale unsay those words.

Or stop them from feeling so infernally true.

I don't normally mix feelings with physical actions. No, not those ones. Not the bloodlust or wishing to unleash chaos. The squirming, eat you away inside feelings. Am I reduced to jealousy and longing?

And what now?

I want Lucifer to understand, to hear the words I couldn't manage to express. He's mistaken. It isn't about The Floor. All hell can go to…

Uh- somewhere far away.

Oh. Is he really mistaken? Or am I? A kiss is a pretty definite symbol. It would explain the anger. What did Aziraphale say?

"_He'll find Crowley…"_ As if he's been cast off as well.

I've uttered it now, if only to myself. The grey zone must be affecting me… because I really do want his love. But I've botched it all up. If I continue to bother him, he'll only come to hate me. I'd rather be unloved than hated.

Shit. Shit! I have nothing. There's no reason for me to be in this grey zone. Nothing to keep me here… But where can I go? I acted like a foolish mortal. Indulging in a dramatic act of emotion. Leaving me with what? An agony that is incurable. In addition to being on the other side of hell without the keys to get back.

_

* * *

Lucifer… _

I'm sitting on the edge of a marble fountain.

I didn't plan it, exactly. When I escaped from… from what happened I was more focused on the idea of _away_ instead of towards anywhere specific.

It is really a sad situation. Not me. I take responsibility for that.

It's the pigeons. They are the most doomed beings I have ever seen.

There is never balance. They are equally sources of irritation and affection. They leave droppings all over the place.

People feed them and chase them. They make a great a deal of noise. Some don't fly off, whether because they're too greedy or too fat, I don't know.

These are the wandering thoughts I pick, trying hard not to focus on the present. It has away of being mercilessly vivid at times.

Beelzebub.

What are you doing to me? He actually showed affection. I didn't think- I didn't expect-

B.L. uses nuances, subtle expressions. A kiss isn't even something I thought he had in his repertoire. I used to imagine how I'd teach him about it… Still. No matter what, there is no going back. Even if he does lo- Stop that. He can't possibly. Anything we could have wouldn't stand a chance on the Floor. B.L. resented my habit of cutting and running. I've cut him off.

"Geez. I don't mean to offend, but you look terrible."

Someone approaches and all the pigeons take off, fleeing discordantly into the air. Crowley pulls off his sunglasses, glancing at the darkly twilit sky. His pupils are large in the dark, looking more cat-like than snake-like.

"Yes, well… but then you weren't there. Your grey angel is west from here. A while ago he used an immortal voice to call for you. It may be important." He nods as I speak. He glances westward for a moment before sitting down next to me.

"What did I miss? There's obviously something wrong."

"B.L., I mean, Beelzebub is here. He doesn't want me to leave. I ran away for a chance to choose for myself and he-"

"He doesn't get it." Crowley cuts in. It isn't quite true, but I find myself nodding just the same. There's a familiarity here, with him being so close. How many millennia have there been? Since he was mine… I want to move closer so that we can press arm to arm, leg to leg, face to face. I feel so flustered. I want to squelch this confusion. My whole body has been isolated since I broke that kiss.

"What are you thinking?" Crowley asks in response to my staring.

"Oh," I say, too worn out to lie, "I'm wondering what would happen if Aziraphale weren't a factor." This, for some reason, brings a smile to his face.

"And if he weren't, what would you do?" His tone is softer and loneliness tightens my throat.

"I would--"

"Show me."

_

* * *

Aziraphale… _

I had come this way to find Lucifer. What I said to Beelzebub wasn't fair. He deserves another chance; so that he can calm himself and speak clearly. Besides that, I had reasoned with myself about the Morningstar. He may love Crowley, but I can't be angry at him over it. It's hypocritical, isn't it? From the way he ran… he may need help of his own.

It is clear to me now that he needs none of my help.

Crowley is sitting on the fountain ledge. They had exchanged a few words, which were out of my earshot at this distance. And then…

Lucifer had swept my lover into a kiss. And my lover let him.

This is a different side of Crowley. Though he is passionately engaged, there is none of his usual boldness. He leaves that to Lucifer.

They've gone invisible. Everything is blurred by tears and misery. I turn away and fall weakly against a stone pillar.

My mind is playing cruel tricks on me. I can't stop this onslaught. I'm shaking uncontrollably.

"…_you'll learn what agony looks like. It burns the feeling right out of you…"_

"_Oh no you don't. This is me, Aziraphale, you don't get to feel awkward." _

My eyes are squeezed tight against the pain, but I can't shut reality out so easily.

Crowley.

Please.

Please.

I don't think I can-

Do I matter?

Do I matter at all?

You were my-

Why didn't you-

You didn't have to love me.

If you knew you would-

Oh God.

I can't make it-

Crowley.

Please.

I'm not that strong.

Please.

Crowley.

I spread my wings, spinning up into the air. Get away. Get away from this. I don't know where I'll stop, but the ground is far behind.

_

* * *

Beelzebub… _

It must truly be night. There are fewer cars about and there are crowds in the pubs, restaurants and clubs. All I can do is glance in windows, hoping to sense the presence of a demonic being.

I need to get back to hell. Where things are clear and the guidelines are set in stone.

I am going by a night club when three people come running out, knocking into me.

"Oh, excuse me." One of the women says. The man and the other woman turn their attention towards me. All of them are dressed in the fierce business attire suited to the soulless humans that live high off the corporate scam.

"Yes, excuse us." The man says, without the slightest trace of sincerity. They laugh together in a predatory manner. It is this sound that gives them away.

"Zzz What zzz are you zzzz three zz zzzz doing here zzz?" My fellow prince and princesses of hell regard me with amusement.

"We wanted in on the game." Moloch says. He holds his arms up as if to prove nothing is up his sleeves. What game?

"No _no _reason _reason _for _for _you _you _and _and_ your _your _friend _friend_ to _to_ call _call _all _all_ the _the_ shots _shots_." Belial adds, her second voice echoes beneath her words as it always has.

"Zzz friend? Zz"

"Don't play dumb, dearest." Mammon coos, not to be left out.

Moloch grins. "The boss leaves us, then you're gone and _then_ Stoph is nowhere to be found. It didn't take long to piece together."

What? I don't understand. I left for reasons that I never told anyone. And- and why had he followed us?

"Zzz I zz didn't zzz know zzat Mephizztopheles zzz wazz zzz here."

"Hmm?" Mammon seems warmed by this. Her eyes twinkle. "So there's a rivalry, eh? That's makes things even more interesting."

"Zz you zz don't zzz zzzz underztand zz…" Belial interrupts me before I get any further.

"Clearly _clearly_, kinsman _kinsman_, it _it_ is _is_ you _you_ who _who_ doesn't _doesn't_ understand _understand_."

"You should appreciate that we came to you first." Moloch scolds. "We're not going to be patient for much longer."

"Who's _who's_ side _side_ are _are_ you _you_ on _on_?"

"Lucifer'z zzz of zzz course zzz zzzz." It comes right out of my mouth, before I even stop to consider it. They don't know he isn't coming back, but I still don't think they considered him to be on either side. It doesn't matter. I'm not in the mood to squabble over power with other demons. I… I don't care.

From the frown on Moloch's face, I seem to be right about their idea of "sides."

"Pity." He says. "Perhaps you haven't taken a good enough look around. You need to think things through, kinsman."

Mammon nods. "Yes… Think quickly, Beelzebub. If you come around too late, our favour might be too expensive to buy back."

From inside the night club, there is the sound of breaking glass and screams. A couple of shrieks of 'Oh God, it's alive!' reach my ears. Chaos.

Belial giggles. "Time _time_ to _to_ go _go_."

_

* * *

Crowley… _

"Stoph! STOPH!" My shouts are useless. He's been gone for a long time. I'll be lucky if he doesn't leave me here forever.

Any struggling has proved useless. Well, actually… I think I've made things worse by trying. My head is doubly assailed; by a pounding headache and thoughts of what that demon is doing out there in my appearance. He's going to hurt Aziraphale. What is he planning on doing? If he so much as…

But what am I saying?

I've already hurt my angel.

All Stoph has to do is keep away and confirm all his fears.

Fears that I put in him.

Please.

Aziraphale.

Don't fall for it.

He's a fake.

Give me a chance to beg for your forgiveness.

I was just afraid.

I love you too much for this to-

Please, angel.

Aziraphale.

* * *

A/N: Hey, so, ya...

It's a sap fest. I know, the shame. I can't help it.

Feedback is my drug.

I need my feedback-crack.

-Sike


End file.
